


i was just late to want

by rheniumvolution



Category: the raven cycle
Genre: Cabeswater Hates Ronan, M/M, Ronan doesn't know how to talk about ~FEELINGS~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3891958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rheniumvolution/pseuds/rheniumvolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Ronan dreamt of a beach.</p>
<p>Sprawling sands and icy water lapping at his ankles. The skies were a clear and constant blue, but it wasn’t hot, and there was no sun. There was always a breeze. He wasn’t sure if the beach was a real memory that he had, or if it was simply a figment of his imagination—another one of Cabeswater’s branches. </p>
<p>Adam was there, but Adam, lately, seemed to always be there. In Ronan’s thoughts, at least. But his continued, painful, startlingly realistic presence in the Cabeswater of Ronan’s head was new. Adam with all of his odd angles and sharp lines that kept Ronan from ever reaching for him too quickly. Ronan might be a snake, but Adam was a soldier. Adam was fighting a one-man war. </p>
<p>Sometimes, Ronan dreamt of Adam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i was just late to want

Sometimes, Ronan dreamt of a beach.

 

Sprawling sands and icy water lapping at his ankles. The skies were a clear and constant blue, but it wasn’t hot, and there was no sun. There was always a breeze.

 

He wasn’t sure if the beach was a real memory that he had, or if it was simply a figment of his imagination—another one of Cabeswater’s branches. He knew from experience that he couldn’t pull anything physical from the beach except for what appeared to be sand. If he wanted anything substantial, he had to return to Cabeswater’s heart. The woods with their soupy Southern heat, teeming with life that wasn’t really life. Thoughts and dreams and fears made flesh.

 

Adam was there, but Adam, lately, seemed to always be there. In Ronan’s thoughts, at least. But his continued, painful, startlingly realistic presence in the Cabeswater of Ronan’s head was new. Adam with all of his odd angles and sharp lines that kept Ronan from ever reaching for him too quickly. Ronan might be a snake, but Adam was a soldier. Adam was fighting a one-man war. That was the difference between them—one of the differences, at least. For all of his crashing and burning, for all of his fault lines and broken bits, Ronan had never really been alone. But Adam—

 

Sometimes, Ronan dreamt of Adam.

 

One day—night, whatever—in Cabeswater (not the beach, the real Cabeswater, Ronan turned to Dream Adam and stared for a while.

 

Dream Adam stared right back, which was new. He filed it away for future reference.

 

“Does Cabeswater share all of this? The dreams?” Ronan asked. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of this in the past month or so. “You know, with the real Adam?”

 

Dream Adam raised an eyebrow at him. Ronan’s fingers felt static.

 

“What makes you think I’m _not_ the real Adam?” said Now-Maybe Adam.

 

“Oh,” said Ronan. “That’s new.”

 

\--

 

It probably should have been weirder than it was, Ronan thought. It probably should have been a _lot_ weirder. They saw each other in the morning and during the day for school, and then whenever Gansey got them all together for Glendower-hunting. Then they saw each other at night. For the dreams. That they… shared? A shared hallucination, Ronan decided. Or something like that.

 

Gansey, he could tell, knew something was off. However, he was far too diplomatic to ask about it. Blue and Noah just smirked at them occasionally, but they all trusted him and Adam to not do anything too incredibly ridiculous.

 

In retrospect, that was not their best idea.

 

\--

 

He should have expected the bleed over.

 

One night, he and Adam spent almost the entire dream continuing an argument that they had started halfway through the evening: what was the best flavor of Coca-Cola?

 

It’s a trivial thing, but it entertained the both of them and the girl while Adam made another pass over Cabeswater, seeing if there’s anything that needs to be fixed, and Ronan translated from Latin and the-language-they-still-don’t-know to English effortlessly. The girl watched with silently amused eyes as the two of them carried on.

 

The next day, Adam wore his Coke shirt with an air of defiance, making sure that Ronan saw it and _knew_. Ronan ate an extravagant amount of Maraschino cherries, eyes sharp and pinned to Adam the whole time.

 

Ronan found out that he can tie a cherry stem in a knot in under twenty seconds (Noah timed him). Adam watched with bright, slightly unfocused eyes and the tips of his ears flushed red. Gansey raised an eyebrow and said nothing, while Blue leaned on him and made retching noises.

 

It became their way of making sure that they were actually there with each other in the dream, not making it up. Eventually, Ronan took to nudging Adam with his shoulder and raising an eyebrow. Adam would nod or shake his head and Ronan would know if the Adam in his dream was really Adam, or if it was just his overactive imagination.

 

One way he always knew was that the real Adam never kissed him.

 

\--

 

“Do you think there might be any side-effects to this?” Adam asked one night.

 

“To what?” Ronan asked, even though he already knew.

 

Adam, to his credit, didn’t answer, just looked at him.

 

“Hell, Parrish, I dunno,” he raised up his hands. “If I start hearing your voice in my head, I’ll let you know.”

 

Adam rolled his eyes. It did funny things to Ronan’s stomach. God _help_ _him_ , he was so fucked. He followed as Adam kept walking.

 

“At first, this was happening, what? Once a week? Once every other week? Now I’m surprised if I fall asleep and I don’t end up here or somewhere else with you. Some nights I actually look forward to it.”

 

“Only some nights?” Ronan asked, mostly to dissipate the tension. “Damn, I have to step up my wooing techniques, huh?” This. This he was good at. This was familiar territory.  

 

Adam all but growled, and threw Ronan completely out of orbit once again. “Is that what this is, Lynch? Your attempts to woo me?”

 

Ronan swallowed, but didn’t look away.

 

“I,” he starts. “Actually, I don’t know. I don’t know what this is.” His heart beat in his throat. He pressed on. Ronan Lynch was a lot of things, but he was not a liar. And he was sure about this. Or he wasn’t, actually, and he needed Adam to know that. “All I know is that if this is—if Cabeswater’s doing this because I have—because I _am_ —“ He cursed himself for being so fallibly human. Then, he chuckled, but the sound was empty.

 

Adam was watching him carefully, eyebrows pulled together. For once, Ronan could not tell what he was thinking.

 

“If that’s what this is,” Ronan said, “then Cabeswater has a sick sense of humor. And it likes to hurt me more than I thought it did.”

 

Adam nodded. His expression was very carefully blank. It was the kind of blank that Ronan had only seen on Adam’s face twice before, and neither were very good memories. Ronan didn’t breathe.

 

“Move that rock,” said Adam, “a few inches back.”

 

And that was that.

 

\--

 

“Alright, what’s going on?” Blue asked, draping herself across Ronan’s bed.

 

Ronan glared at her. Blue glared back.

 

“Well,” said Ronan, “the weather’s shit lately, so that’s probably why Calla’s knee’s bugging her again, which is what I’m _sure_ you wanted to discuss.”

 

“Bullshit,” said Blue. “Adam.”

 

“No,” said Ronan, shaking his head, “I’m Ronan. You’re getting us mixed up again.”

 

She punched his arm, but the angle was off, so it only stung a little. (He had been punched by Blue Sargent before and would like to never repeat the experience again, please and thank you, amen.)

 

“Ronan,” she said. “Do not make me get Gansey.”

 

He winced and Blue nodded seriously.

 

If Gansey ever got the slightest idea that Ronan had _feelings_ that he needed to _talk about,_ Ronan would never hear the end of that. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it. Blue’s quick wit and advice that wasn’t really advice, he could listen to. It helped. She brought him back down, sometimes. Gansey’s earnest and fumbling need to make sure that all of them were safe and happy and sufficiently loved?

 

He’d rather return to the darkness of that fucking bullshit mirror lake, actually.

 

Blue looked at him.

 

He sighed. “Would you believe me if I told you that I honestly had no fucking clue what’s going on between me and Parrish right now?”

 

Blue’s sharp eyes softened. “Tell me what you _do_ know, then,” she said. “As much as you’re comfortable with, at least.”

 

He felt the last shreds of his resolve crumbling. “Is Noah listening?”

 

Blue cocked her head, feeling out the familiar energy of Noah Czerny somewhere in the warehouse. He hadn’t been visible for about two weeks, a problem that Adam was attempting to sort out in the dreams. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, he’s here. He might listen in, but he’ll leave if you want him to.”

 

Ronan shrugged, a short, jerky motion. His entire body felt disconnected from itself, like he was strung up as a puppet and all of his strings were frayed and snapping. “’S cool. Hey, Noah.”

 

His lamp fell off his nightstand.

 

He and Blue dissolved into laughter at the same time, lying next to each other on the bed. She sat up, getting her breath back. “Okay. _Okay_. Tell us everything.”

 

So he did.

 

\--

 

He had stood up as he talked, pacing, hands waving. When he was done, Blue was quiet for a little while. “So,” she said. Her voice sounded calm and it soothed the waves crashing in Ronan’s chest. At least one of them was good at this. “So. Do you think this is because—do you think that Cabeswater wants—“

 

“I don’t care what _Cabeswater_ wants!” Ronan said. Blue’s eyes widened and Ronan figured his outburst had caused the reappearance of Noah. Whatever. The fight slid out of his spine like poison. “I don’t _care_. I don’t. Not about this. Because when it comes to this—to me being stupidly in love with Adam—“

 

“ _Ronan_ ,” Blue whispered urgently, but Ronan waved her off.

 

“No, now I’m on a fucking roll, Sargent, okay? This is therapeutic, or something. Okay. I am stupidly in fucking _love_ with Adam Parrish, and it sucks because it hurts and because I can’t do anything about it and it is none of _Cabeswater’s. Fucking. Business._ It’s mine. Okay, well, guess it’s Adam’s, too, but he doesn’t know—or he does, and he doesn’t wanna talk about it, but that’s. Well. That’s whatever. But it’s ours, or mine, and—I _can’t_ —“ his voice broke.

 

Heat pricked at the corners of his eyes and he swallowed hard, swallowed around the painful swell of feelings until it was gone. He was good at that. “I can’t do it anymore, Blue.” His voice was strangely empty and impossibly full at the same time. “It hurts too much.”

 

Blue’s eyes were wide and her mouth was parted in a small ‘o.’

 

“I just wanted to see if y’all were busy,” Adam’s voice said from behind him. Ronan’s entirely body collapsed and collected into his throat. “Sorry.”

 

Ronan heard his bedroom door slam, but the sound seemed disconnected from the action itself, and what it meant for him. Blue was still looking at him.

 

“See,” Ronan said, carefully composed. “ _This_ is exactly why I don’t talk about my feelings.”

 

“Ronan—“

 

“Please,” he said. “Please. I think I’d just like to be alone for a little while.”

 

Blue slid past him silently, brushing his shoulder softly, just once, before she left the room, closing the door behind her.

 

Ronan stood there, frozen and quiet, for a long time after Blue Sargent left.

 

\--

 

Adam was avoiding him. To be fair, Ronan was avoiding Adam, too. The ball in this metaphorical game was entirely in Adam’s court.

 

To make sure that Adam had all of the space he needed, Ronan stopped sleeping. This wasn’t the hardest thing he’d ever done, considering his insomnia. He rarely slept in the first place, this was simple. Easy. Piece of cake.

 

God, he was so fucking tired.

 

Gansey noticed, because of-fucking-course Gansey noticed. Gansey _always_ noticed.

 

“When are you going to talk to him?” he asked, cornering Ronan in the hallway one day.

 

“Whenever he wants to talk to me,” Ronan shot back quickly.

 

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

 

“Pot, meet kettle.”

 

“Jane told me about the dreams.”

 

Ronan swore. He let out a shaky breath. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Blue Sargent was a traitor. Blue Sargent honestly cared about him. He didn’t know what to do with the fact.

 

Gansey stayed just far enough away that Ronan could still breathe and he was suddenly aware of the fact that he had more than one person who truly gave a shit about what happened to him, how he felt, who knew him so well. It was weird, but it was nice, too.

 

“The dreams have fuck-all to do with this, Gansey.”

 

“The dreams have _everything_ to do with this, Lynch.”

 

“Like what?” he asked. _Nothing_ , said his brain. _Everything_ , repeated Cabeswater.

 

“Like you aren’t sleeping because then you’d actually have to talk to Adam and you don’t want to do that because—“

 

“I already told you, I’m not talking to him because I’m waiting—“

 

“Bullshit.” Gansey’s voice took on the same presence that it had so many times before. The kind that Ronan felt all the way down in his marrow. The kind that made the room, the world, whisper: this boy is a _king_. You will hear him and _know_.

 

“You aren’t waiting for him,” Gansey continued. “He’s waiting for you. I know how both of your brains work.”

 

“Oh, really?” asked Ronan. “Then tell me, your highness—“

 

“Stop, Ronan. Just stop.” Gansey paused. He sounded so tired, and guilt pricked at Ronan’s stomach, rising in the form of bile. “You’re hurting. Adam is hurting.”

 

Ronan’s chest clenched and twisted painfully. “Yeah,” he said. “Adam _is_ hurting. Because of me, because of what I said, because I fucked up. I’m not going to force him to talk about it when it’s my fuck up that put us in this mess in the first place.”

 

Gansey sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He pulled a mint leaf out of his pocked, put it in his mouth. “You are both impossible creatures.”

 

Ronan barked a laugh. “Humans usually are. Also, you sound like my brother. Cut it out.”

 

“I am your brother,” said Gansey seriously. His eyes leveled Ronan’s complaints. “I am.”

 

“This,” said Ronan, “is one _seriously_ fucked up family.”

 

Gansey blew out a stream of breath that sounded sort of like a laugh, as if a king were capable of such a human gesture. “Maybe. But it’s the one we’ve got.”

 

They both stood there, bodies poised to fight or flee, until Gansey’s phone rang and shocked them both out of their silence.

 

“Jane,” Gansey said. Tension slipped out of his shoulders in a wave. Ronan envied him in some ways, didn’t in others.

 

Blue and Gansey knew exactly where they stood with each other, how they each felt.

 

Ronan, if he was so inclined, could go kiss Adam right now without worrying about it.

 

Gansey hung up after a brief conversation that Ronan was polite enough to ignore.

 

“He’s waiting for you, Ronan,” said Gansey. “Not the other way around. Or, maybe, you’re waiting for each other, I don’t fucking know anymore. But just—“ he glanced at his phone, fingers tensing, “—the waiting, the not knowing, the _impossibility_ of it… that’s the worst part. That’s what hurts the most.” He looked at Ronan, eyes bright and sad and half in love with the whole world, “Get it the fuck over with, Ronan Lynch.”

 

Ronan nodded. His throat felt dry.

 

“Go to sleep, Greywaren. Sweet dreams.”

 

\--

 

It was a little past noon when sleep finally dragged Ronan back to the beach. He glared at the sand.

 

“This isn’t even Cabeswater,” he told it. “Fuck you.”

 

“I think it might be,” said Adam from some distance behind him. Ronan didn’t look at him. He couldn’t bear it.

 

Adam continued without prompting. “A while ago, I—Blue and Noah and I, _we_ figured out that there might be more than one of them or, at least, different branches from the same vine, maybe? Like a system. This could be one of them.”

 

Ronan nodded. Adam had moved forward while he talked, so that now he was just behind Ronan’s left shoulder. Ronan could feel him more than see him. He was standing really, really close. Every time he exhaled, the breath fanned out over Ronan’s neck. He shivered.

 

“What do you want, Ronan?” Adam asked. It felt like a punch to the gut.

 

“That kind of seems like a stupid question, Parrish.”

 

Adam’s hand clasped Ronan’s shoulder and spun him around sharply. Ronan didn’t bother to fight it. Now they were standing even closer than before. Now Ronan could almost pick out every color in Adam’s eyes. Almost.

 

“What do you want, Ronan?” Adam repeated.

 

“What do _you_ want, Adam?” Ronan asked. He meant it to be sarcastic, to bring them both back down to realize that whatever this was, whatever it meant, would change both of them. Instead, it seemed to just make that more apparent. Hell. For better or worse, this was a fall they couldn’t come back from. That was, if they ever decided to jump.

 

“Finally,” Adam breathed. “ _Somebody_ asks me.”

 

Ronan didn’t move, but he did quirk an eyebrow, unspoken question hanging heavy in the air between them.

 

“I want,” Adam started, “I want to not just be a one-time thing for you, Ronan Lynch.”

 

He gaped at Adam, pushed forward. Adam didn’t move back. Their noses bumped. Maybe Adam expected Ronan to bite, to take, to _do something_. Instead, Ronan did what he’d been wanting to do since he had first met Adam Parrish. He lifted a hand and slid it around the back of Adam’s neck, fingers skimming over the shorter hairs there. He could feel Adam’s pulse jumping in his palm. He pressed further, silently, resting his forehead against Adam’s.

 

And then he stopped.

 

For a while, they just stood there like that, occasionally sharing a breath. Then Ronan stepped away. His heart was pounding so quickly in his chest that it almost hurt. Adam’s eyes were clouded, but still they were focused entirely on Ronan’s face.

 

“Ronan,” he warned. Ronan felt cold all over where Adam had been pressed against him. He swallowed hard. Then he laughed.

 

His voice felt raw. It was nearly a whisper. “A ‘one-time thing,’ Parrish?”

 

“I just—“ Adam stepped towards him. Ronan stepped back. “I just thought—“

 

“What part of ‘stupidly in love with you’ was difficult for you to understand, exactly? Seriously, because I can say it again in many different ways. Until you get it.” He knew his face was flushed from the admission, from the weight of the words, the truth in them. “Until you _understand_.”

 

Adam made a choked off noise. Ronan shivered.

 

“I didn’t think you really meant—“

 

“I always,” Ronan cut him off again, “ _always_ say what I mean.”

 

Cabeswater was quiet. Even the water wasn’t moving.

 

“Ronan.”

 

“ _Adam_.” He tripped forward, feet carrying him blindly for the quick step it took for Adam to get there, arms around Ronan’s shoulders. Ronan buried his face in Adam’s neck, breath coming in soft motions as his arms came around Adam’s sides. Adam was making reassuring noises into Ronan’s ear.

 

“I love you,” Ronan heard himself saying. Over and over again. “I love you. I _love_ you.”

 

Adam pulled back just enough to press a kiss to the edge of Ronan’s mouth. “I know,” he murmured. His smile was blinding. Ronan stared at him. “I know. I love you, too.”

 

Ronan shuddered and Adam kissed him again, slow enough for their lips to catch as they pulled back. There was barely a pause before they fell back into each other with a shared breath. Ronan’s fingers dug into Adam’s shoulders and dragged all of the way down to his hips. Adam pulled away again only to press open-mouthed kisses to Ronan’s jaw and neck. He breathed, hot and wet, into the skin there, hands scrambling for purchase around Ronan’s shoulders.

 

“I love you,” Adam murmured between kisses. Once they’d said it, it was like neither of them could say it enough. The words felt safer in Cabeswater, contained between the two of them in the bubble they had created. Ronan felt himself falling to pieces underneath Adam’s hands.

 

“God,” said Ronan. “ _Adam_. Adam, _please_.”

 

Adam answered in kind, soothing hands up and over Ronan’s scalp, nails scraping gently over his skin. He realized, later rather than sooner, that Adam was entirely letting him set the pace. Ronan didn’t know when some things about them had changed so drastically. Adam was taking whatever Ronan was giving him and Ronan—Ronan _wanted_. He wanted Adam to give him everything, to stop holding back.

 

“C’mon,” he hissed, fingers digging in gently. “Why’re you holding back?”

 

In response, Adam’s hands cupped Ronan’s neck before tilting his head back. Ronan went willingly, boneless in Adam’s grip.

 

“I’m _not_ ,” Adam whispered into the breath between them. “I know what I want, Ronan. And I also know what you need. There’s a very big difference. Right now, at least.”

 

“What I _need_ —“ Ronan started, but Adam silenced him by slotting his mouth over Ronan’s, kissing him thoroughly.

 

Adam was calling all of the shots still, Ronan realized. Everything this far, all of it, it had been on Adam’s terms. Ronan had no problem with that, he just—he hadn’t realized. Adam’s terms, except for—oh. _Oh_. He pulled back with wide eyes.

 

“Gansey was right,” he said.

 

“ _Please_ don’t mention Gansey when we’re making out.”

 

“You—you’ve been waiting for me.”

 

Adam’s expression turned curious. “Well, what did you think I was doing?”

 

“I thought— I—“ He groaned, pulling Adam back into a biting kiss. “You mean we could have been doing this,” he punctuated his question with another kiss, “for however long,” another, “and we haven’t only because I thought that I was the one waiting for you to make the first move?” He moved to Adam’s neck as Adam laughed breathlessly. Ronan bit his neck. He stopped laughing.

 

They kept kissing, passing ‘I love you’s back and forth, quietly, like it was still a secret that they had to keep safe. Eventually, Ronan felt the dream slipping away from them, the edges curling up and turning in on themselves. Adam brushed his nose against Ronan’s one last time before the scene faded entirely.

 

Ronan Lynch startled awake in his own bed, achingly hard and painfully alone, with only the memory of Adam’s mouth and some sand in his sheets for company.

 

\--

 

St. Agnes was still and quiet when Ronan pulled up at nine pm. Adam’s car wasn’t there, but Ronan didn’t care. If anything, he’d just wait for Adam to get back.

 

Gansey had taken one look at him after he’d dragged his loose-limbed body out of bed around six and laughed until he cried. Ronan flipped him off and took his car just to spite him. Then, of course, he drove around Henrietta for a good three hours before making his way back to the church.

 

Now, all his nervous energy had dissipated, leaving only the regular kind of energy. The kind of energy that made him bounce up the stairs two at a time because he really just needed to see Adam _right now_ before he realized that Adam wasn’t even there. There was a post-it note stuck to the door.

 

 

_Ronan—_

_At work. Be back by ten. Don’t_

_drink my coke. I remember the_

_beach. Stay here._

Then, in a somewhat hastier scrawl, as though he wrote it after he had already put it on the door before running into work, it read: _I love you._

Ronan carefully peeled the post-it note off of the door before folding it and putting it in his pocket. Nobody was around to see him; he was allowed to be sentimental. The door to Adam’s apartment swung open easily, so he figured he was allowed inside.

 

The clock on the night stand told him that he has a little over twenty minutes until Adam might get back. Naturally, Ronan stood in the middle of Adam Parrish’s apartment, and he worried. The energy turned nervous again. It felt like he hardly had enough time to prepare himself before the clock told him that it’s 9:58. Time flies when you’re having fun and also, apparently, when you’re panicking about what to say to the boy you’re in love with.

 

He heard Adam’s feet on the stairs at 10:00 sharp.

 

Adam’s hands wrapped around his waist at 10:01.

 

Ronan twisted in Adam’s arm and kissed him for real, in the real world, where both of them were awake and alive and gasping into each other’s mouths, and both of Ronan’s hands were on either side of Adam’s face, at 10:02.

 

Adam had grease smeared high on his cheekbone and on his shirt. He smelled like leather and smoke and sweat and grass. He smelled like _Adam_ and Ronan’s entire body thrummed with it. Adam dragged Ronan closer by his hips until even the thought of space between them was gone and done with.

 

“Hi,” said Adam.

 

“Hey,” said Ronan.

 

Adam smiled at him when they finally found it in themselves to part for real. “At least we’re on the same page there.”

 

Ronan leaned in again because, hell, how could he not? But Adam twisted away and crossed his arms.

 

“I need to eat,” said Adam.

 

“Yeah,” said Ronan.

 

“Don’t make that face at me, Lynch.” Adam pointed at Ronan’s apparent face. Ronan resisted the urge to step forward and kiss Adam’s finger. He really was hopeless. “If we start now, I won’t be able to stop, and I have the graveyard shift at the store after this.”

 

Ronan swallowed, nodded. “Or,” he said, definitely _not_ whining, “you could call in sick?”

 

Adam looked at him and Ronan sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just—“ Adam smiled at his flush and stepped closer again, fingers running lightly over Ronan’s neck and collar bones and down his chest. Ronan made a noise that Adam kissed off his lips, teeth nipping at his bottom lip, which only served to spark another noise from the back of Ronan’s throat.

 

“Fuck,” Adam said, pulling back again and running a hand through his hair. “ _Fuck_ , Ronan.”

 

“You _could_ if you called you called in sick,” Ronan replied easily, but the words were far too true to be much of a joke, and he stepped back, too. There already wasn’t a lot of room in the apartment, and it seemed to become even smaller with the energy pulsing between the two of them. Adam stared at him, lips parted and red from kissing.

 

“ _You_ ,” said Adam, “You are incredible and brilliant and I want you so badly it hurts—“

 

“Adam,” Ronan warned, taking another step back. This, however, backfired almost immediately. The backs of Ronan’s knees hit the edge of Adam’s mattress and buckled beneath him, and so down he went. “Uh,” said Ronan.

 

Adam laughed quietly. “I’m going to get something to drink,” he said, “but please, feel free to stay exactly where you are.”

 

Ronan smirked at him, shifting so that he was actually lying in the bed, head on a pillow that smelled dangerously of Adam. “Like seeing me in your bed, Parrish?”

 

His mouth went dry when Adam smirked right back, eyes dragging up and down Ronan’s body in one slow motion. Adam nodded. “More than I probably should.”

 

The confession knocked all of the air from Ronan’s lungs. His hand unconsciously fisted itself in the worn-soft fabric of Adam’s sheets. A movement that Adam tracked with heavy, thoughtful eyes.

 

“Adam,” said Ronan.

 

“Fuck,” said Adam.

 

“You have work.”

 

“Yeah,” said Adam, closing the fridge without taking anything out of it. He moved towards the bed. “I do.”

 

Ronan watched silently as Adam pulled out the phone that Gansey had gotten him for Christmas (he had gotten all of them phones, actually, but the point was for Adam to get a nice phone, which, at the time, sparked a two week argument). He dialed a number, only looking away from Ronan once to do so.

 

His voice, when he spoke, was hoarse and low and did strange things to the organization of Ronan’s insides. “Yeah, hey, it’s Adam. ‘M not gonna be able t’ make it in tonight. Sorry this is so last minute. Something—“ his eyes blinked once, owlishly, at Ronan “—Something came up and tonight’s just no good anymore.”

 

Ronan was aware that he made a noise, but he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Adam’s eyes burned a little darker.

 

“Yeah,” he said distractedly. “’M just _real_ sick. Okay, okay yeah. Thanks. Gotta go. Bye.” He tossed the phone so that it landed with a soft thump on the pile of clothes in his laundry bin as he watched Ronan rise to his knees on the mattress, crawling forward until he reached Adam, who was still standing beside the edge.

 

Adam’s hand caught Ronan’s neck once he was close enough, dragged him forward, and Ronan’s brain sparked rapidly once it registered the intent that Adam was pouring into the kiss. Ronan pulled back. Adam frowned, but let Ronan catch his breath to speak.

 

“I just—“ Ronan started. “I’m about to lose all ability to _speak_ , let alone think straight and form coherent sentences— _hey_ , don’t look so smug, asshole—and I wanted… I just, I wanted—“

 

“Hey,” Adam said, gathering Ronan closer to him. “I love you, you dick. I love you.”

 

Ronan sighed, sliding his eyes closed as Adam’s breath ghosted over his mouth. “I love you, too. I love you so much that sometimes I’m afraid that I dreamt you up. Sometimes I’m afraid that one day I’ll wake up, or something will happen to me, and you’ll just—you’ll be—“

 

Adam grabbed one of Ronan’s hands and brought it to his mouth, kissed every knuckle on every finger. “Ronan Lynch,” he said, no longer bothering to make any attempt to hide his Henrietta accent, “not even you could dream up something this good.”

 

Ronan kissed him.

 

\--

 

Adam Parrish fucked like it was the last thing on Earth he’d ever do. Like he was scared that if he let go of Ronan at all, none of it would be real. Ronan held on, soothed Adam’s trembling skin with his fingers, mumbled ‘I love you’s into Adam’s mouth. His entire body was flushed and he felt unbelievably, exquisitely full.

 

They fell into one another, trying to keep a balance. Adam poured so much of himself into Ronan that it was all he could do to place everything he had, everything he was, in Adam’s hands for safe-keeping.

 

Ronan was the Greywaren. He was Cabeswater’s Greywaren. Adam had Cabeswater in his blood, his hands, his eyes. Adam was Cabeswater’s tongue; Ronan was its sword. How had it taken them so long to get to this point? How could something that felt so endlessly inevitable (the two of them tangled up in Adam’s sheets, hearts bleeding out for want of each other) have taken him so long?

 

\--

 

When he dragged himself out awake, Ronan was on his back, Adam pressed long and warm against his side. Adam’s arm was heavy against his ribs. He really had to pee. He pushed lightly at Adam’s shoulder, but he just shifted his weight further onto Ronan’s body and mumbled something into his neck.

 

“Ridiculous,” Ronan murmured, voice fond. “Get off me, Parrish. Fuckin’ octopus.”

 

Adam rolled away, eyes blinking open slowly. Ronan kissed him once, softly, just because he _could_ , and muttered, “I’ll be right back.”

 

When he returned, Adam was sitting up in bed, naked and soft and Ronan _stared_. Adam stared back. He had never masked his interest before this, but now he was allowed to touch. Ronan Lynch wasn’t sure how he was ever going to be able to stop touching Adam Parrish. He swung himself back into the bed and over Adam, so that he was straddling his lap.

 

“We’ve got class at eight,” Adam mumbled against the skin of Ronan’s neck.

 

“That gives us, what?” Ronan said with a sharp grin, “Hour? Hour and a half?”

 

Adam sighed, “Insatiable,” but he was smiling, and he punctuated the complaint by kissing Ronan solidly on the mouth.

 

Ronan pulled back, shifting so that he could slip further down the bed, kissing a trail down Adam’s chest until he reached his goal.

 

“My turn,” he said, and Adam gasped.

 

\--

 

When they finally got to class, Ronan had a bruise too large and far too high up on his collar to be an accident and Adam’s hair was a thoroughly untamable mess on top of his head.

 

“Well,” said Gansey, after he had finally stopped laughing. “Dreams _do_ come true.”

 

Adam smacked him.

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr @arequiemplayed and twitter @mythgrunge. also note: writing a fic where i share a name with the main character is CONFUSING and AWFUL.


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